Secrets and Spellcraft

by Michael G. Manning

  Janice visibly shrank, making herself as small as possible.

  Damn it. What did I do wrong? Hastily, he added, “I don’t take notes, but I listen very well. I know you probably don’t need help, but I—” He stopped, afraid the girl might jump up and run out of the room. With every word she seemed to flinch.

  “Sorry,” he said after a moment. “It was just a thought.”

  More students were filing in now and he saw another face he recognized, Chris Burnham, from his Fencing class. The other boy nodded at him but took a seat in another row, though Will noticed a strange look pass across Chris’ face when he noticed Janice. What was that? wondered Will. Do they know each other? Why didn’t he say hello, then?

  The professor made an appearance then, introducing herself as Melinda Fontenot before continuing, “Today we will begin our journey through the past, exploring the history of our nation. In order to do that we will start with what came before the War for Independence to give you all a frame of reference.

  “Since many of you won’t have any further exposure to Terabinia’s long and interesting history, this class will attempt to paint antiquity in broad strokes and give you a basic understanding of what Terabinia emerged from and why we occupy the unique spot we do today. I encourage those of you with greater interest to consider signing up for some of my advanced courses next year if you’d like to enjoy a greater depth of understanding. By the end of this semester you should know whether you fall into that category or not.

  “We will begin with Stephen the Great, who after the conquest of the Kingdom of Trendle, found himself in possession of all of what we now recognize as Darrow, Terabinia, and parts of Trendham. Although the kingdom he ruled at that time was known as the Darrowan Empire, we will be referring to it as simply Greater Darrow to avoid confusion with the smaller states that we are familiar with today.

  “As most of you know, the Darrowan calendar begins with the year of Emperor Stephen’s birth, although it wasn’t officially adopted until late in his life. Since this gives us a simple method of tracking the time of different events, we will be using the Darrowan calendar for dating events that occurred before our own War for Independence. If any of this confuses you, remember that you can always convert Darrowan dates to Terabinian years by simply subtracting three-hundred and twelve from the Darrowan year.”

  Professor Fontenot went on, covering the first three hundred years of Greater Darrow’s history in a very abridged manner. All of it was new to Will, though, so he listened with keen interest. It turned out that while Stephen the Great had been a skilled strategist and general, he had been woefully inadequate when it came to governing the vast territory he had claimed. Fortunately, the man had died in his middle years, and his son, Flarian, had been born with a knack for governance that was equaled only by his aversion to war.

  It was near the end of the class when Will heard a name that caught his immediate attention. “In 283, Emperor Laernan took on a new advisor named Arrogan Leirendel. I only mention this now so you’ll have the date for context since that advisor will become extremely important in later discussions of our own War of Independence,” said Professor Fontenot.

  Will’s hand went up. “Excuse me, ma’am. Did you say Arrogan Leirendel?”

  “I did. Are you having trouble hearing me all the way back in the second row?”

  “No, ma’am. I just wanted to be sure. Do you know how old he was when he took that position?”

  Something about the question seemed to give the professor indigestion, judging by the look on the woman’s face. “What is your name, young man?”

  “William Cartwright, ma’am.”

  “Mister Cartwright, if you have an interest in mythology please indulge yourself at the library. My class is for the more serious pursuit of truth.”

  Will was bewildered, but the bell tower began to ring a second later and Professor Fontenot dismissed the class. Unable to contain himself, Will turned to Janice. “It was just a simple question. Did I say something wrong?”

  His classmate stood and gathered her things quickly. As she left, he heard her say, “No. Excuse me.”

  For the life of him, Will couldn’t figure out why she seemed so scared of him. With a sigh he capped his ink bottle, packed his pen and journal, and followed her out with the last of the students. As he stepped out into the hall, he heard a familiar voice. “Janice. How good to see you!” He spotted Dennis Spry, who looked to have been waiting for the girl.

  She gave the young lord a weak smile, but Will noticed a slight flinch when Dennis casually draped his arm over the young woman’s shoulders. Will frowned.

  Dennis lowered his voice as they walked away, but Will’s sharp ears could still make out his words. “You haven’t forgotten our study date, have you? I need that essay by tomorrow.” Janice shook her head.

  Is he making her do his work? Will found it hard to believe, but as he thought back to her previous reactions it got him to thinking. Did she think I was trying to do the same? It was a ludicrous idea from his perspective, but from hers it might seem entirely plausible. He was tempted to approach them and give Dennis a piece of his mind, but he didn’t know enough to run around making accusations.

  He’d already done enough damage to his reputation by being rude to the young lord. There was no need to make it worse when he didn’t actually have any proof.

  His next class was Composition, but he didn’t see Janice there when he arrived. She showed up at the last minute, barely in time to avoid being late. Will waved to her and offered her the empty seat next to him, but she ignored him and sat in the back. He watched her walk by, taking note of her hair, which was in a mild state of disarray. He caught a glimpse of her eyes even though she kept her head down. They were red.

  What happened? Will felt an angry spark run through him, mixed with guilt. Had Dennis done something to her? Was it his fault for not intervening before? Professor Conrad entered and class began, so he was forced to stay quiet.

  Chapter 6

  Lunch passed without anything of note happening, and Will’s afternoon classes were likewise mundane, until he got to Spell Theory. Professor Dulaney started speaking as soon as the class began. “Please get up and come forward once I begin calling names. Today you’ll all have your turyn typed so you can start planning what you’d like to do in the future. Knowing your type will help you focus on information that may pertain to you in particular and help you plan your coursework for the next year.”

  He began calling out names, and those called lined up in front of the podium. The teacher stopped after ten names to avoid having too many people at the front of the class. Will was the fourth student called, since his name was close to the beginning of the alphabet.

  Dulaney resumed his speech as they formed a line. “As I showed you with the diagram yesterday, everyone produces a variety of different types of turyn and every person’s individual mixture is unique. The one thing that we all have in common is that if you average the different types and wavelengths produced by any given individual, they will always average at the zero point on the graph. Does anyone know why this is?”

  One of the students who was still seated answered, “Is it like body temperature, sir?”

  “An excellent analogy, Mister Holmgren. This is very similar. Just as most people have the same body temperature to within a few tenths of a degree, the turyn produced by different human beings also averages out to almost the same figure. There is a tiny bit of variance, though. Next question, if everyone’s turyn averages out to the same zero point on the graph, how are there different, so-called ‘types’?”

  No one volunteered to attempt that one.

  Dulaney stepped up to the blackboard and drew another cross, then he marked the four quadrants. “Fire, water, earth, air—again, these are oversimplifications, but they are useful for our purposes. You type is defined as which of these general types of turyn you produce the most of. You will almost certainly produce turyn of the oth
er types as well, but if there is an excess in one area, balanced by smaller amounts in the other three, then the graph still sums to zero. The important thing is that we then know that if you have a larger degree of one particular type of turyn then you’ll be able to create spells using it while wasting less of the other types.”

  “Couldn’t a person just produce the type of turyn needed without making the types they don’t need?” asked Will.

  The professor grinned. “If only that were the case, Mister Cartwright!” He then drew two parallel lines on the board. “Think of this as a pipe. Turyn is the water flowing through it, although unlike water, it comes in many different flavors. Is everyone with me so far?”

  Dulaney waited a moment until the students began nodding. Then he shaded in a thick portion of the bottom of his pipe. Above that he drew another portion, but rather than shading it he marked it with crosshatch marks. He continued until the pipe was full with four different types of turyn, each denoted by a different pattern. “As you can see, this hypothetical person is producing a larger amount of what we’ll call earth turyn.” He pointed to the thicker, shaded portion. “But they don’t control what they produce. The turyn is always produced by his gate or source in a fixed proportion. So if he needs ‘x’ amount of earth turyn to cast a certain spell, he has to keep producing it until he reaches the desired amount, but the entire time he will also be producing these other types, which are wasted.

  “As a result, if someone with a low production of earth-type turyn wants to cast a spell requiring earth turyn, they’ll have to produce a much larger overall amount of turyn to reach the amount needed for the spell. Does this make sense?” Dulaney glanced around the room, then continued, “The reason this is important is that you have to increase your turyn production when casting a spell. The more you increase it, the faster your gate degrades.”

  “What is a gate, sir?” asked Will.

  “The source,” said Dulaney. “We think it is similar to a congruence point between different planes. Every person’s life comes from such a gate, and we produce turyn for magic by manipulating our own inner gate. The more you consume, the sooner you’ll die.”

  Will couldn’t help himself. “If being a wizard shortens your life, why does anyone want to be one?”

  The teacher gave him an odd look. “Well, a large part of what we learn here is to help you avoid foreshortening your life too much, but there is no doubt that any exercise of magic will decrease your lifespan by some degree. Let’s ask your fellow students. Why do you want to be a wizard?”

  Rebecca Swafford raised her hand. When the professor pointed at her, she responded, “I plan to become an artificer, so hopefully I won’t affect my lifespan very much.”

  Another student called out, “For the money!” Several students laughed at that.

  Professor Dulaney nodded. “In case you hadn’t noticed yet, Mister Cartwright, most jobs involving wizardry require only a minimal amount of spell casting and turyn expenditure. Alchemists work to concentrate and harness the turyn found in organic and inorganic materials to produce their products. Artificers work to produce enchanted objects and devices that won’t require much of their own turyn in the making. Spell engineers design spells that are more efficient and practical, but they generally try to avoid casting them unless absolutely necessary. The main exception to this rule would be healers, who are presumably driven by their need to help others. Incidentally, it is also why they tend to command the highest income of all wizards.”

  Will frowned. “If artificers are making devices for others, and spell engineers are crafting spells they don’t want to cast—who are they making these things for? Surely someone has to use them?”

  Dulaney gave him a look he knew well from his time with his grandfather. It was the ‘how dumb can you possibly be’ look. One of the students in the back called out, “Sorcerers, idiot!” The professor smiled and indicated the line should start moving. “If you’ll step up to the device one at a time, we will get the typing over quickly.”

  Will was stunned. He should have realized it already, but it still came as a surprise. All these people are learning magic, how to make spells, how to enchant items, just to give them to sorcerers. None of them were actually learning magic for their own sakes. Arrogan’s words suddenly made perfect sense. “Most of them spend their time bowing and scraping for the sorcerers, hoping to be given scraps.”

  As he was thinking, the boy in front him had just finished. The machine they were using consisted of a simple glass ball mounted between two metal plates. Each student would place their hands on the plates and then wait while the enchantment engraved on the inside of the device measured their individual turyn wavelengths and then reported the results by causing the glass globe to show different colors.

  The fellow in front of him, Shawn Campbell, was excited because the glove was showing two colors instead of one. “A dual type,” announced Professor Dulaney. “Lucky for you! It appears to be earth and fire.”

  Dulaney addressed the class, “What this means is that Mister Campbell’s turyn is narrowly confined to two opposing quadrants on our graph while he produces very little in the other two. His turyn still sums to the zero point, but since he produces almost nothing in the air or water quadrants, he should be able to more efficiently produce spells that require either earth or fire turyn.” He looked back at Shawn. “Congratulations!”

  It was now Will’s turn, but he felt a sudden urge to create mischief as he moved to stand in front of the device. He was already fairly confident in manipulating his own internal turyn, and while he wasn’t entirely sure which types corresponded to the different quadrants on Dulaney’s graph he wondered what would happen if he tried to skew the results. Thinking of Selene’s elementals, he tried to replicate the feeling he had gotten from her water elemental.

  A moment later the globe turned a vivid blue. “Water,” announced the teaching assistant standing close by, but then the young man frowned. “Hang on. This isn’t right.” Dulaney came over, and the two of them spoke together quietly for a few minutes.

  Will smirked as he picked up the professor’s words. “That can’t be. It doesn’t average out properly. It’s almost entirely high frequency and negatively charged. He’d be dead.” The professor turned to Will. “Try it again, there was some sort of interference.”

  Will nodded, and this time he tried to emulate the turyn from Selene’s earth elemental. A few seconds later, the globe turned a dark brown.

  “Earth,” muttered Professor Dulaney. “But it’s still not averaging correctly.” He glanced at the teaching assistant. “Paul, are you sure the machine was calibrated?” After another quick discussion, they urged Will to try again.

  This time he attempted a mixture of fire and water, and he was rewarded when the globe turned equal parts orange and blue.

  “Fire and water?” exclaimed Dulaney. “That’s not even possible. There’s no way for them to zero out.” He stared at Will suspiciously. “Have you tampered with the machine?”

  Will smirked. “You mean this?” He put his hands back on the machine and began changing his turyn from moment to moment, causing the globe to cycle through all four colors. “That’s why I was curious about types. Can’t a person just shift their turyn to produce whatever type is needed?”

  The professor blinked, then grabbed onto Paul’s arm to steady himself. “Are you seeing this, Paul? Am I imagining things?”

  “No, Professor,” said Paul. “I’m seeing it too.”

  “He’s a natural transducer. Is that even possible?” muttered Dulaney. The professor struggled to regain his composure. “Go back to your seat, Mister Cartwright. We’ll talk after class. The rest of you, line up again. I want to retype you just to make sure the machine is still giving accurate readings.”

  Will sat quietly, observing the proceedings. Everyone else’s results fit the standard pattern—they showed either a mild affinity for one of the elemental quadrants, or in a couple
of extraordinary cases they produced a dual type, either fire and earth, or air and water. One unfortunate student, Arlen Morelli, had no type at all. The globe remained clear, indicating an almost perfect split between all four elemental types. Dulaney explained that while this meant she could perform almost any spell, she would have a poor efficiency with any sort of magic she attempted.

  When the class was finally over, Professor Dulaney gestured toward him. “Come with me.” Will followed the teacher out of the room and down the hall. At one end was a door with a name plate attached with the professor’s name on it. “Do you have much time before your next class?” asked Dulaney as he unlocked the door.

  “I would have Alchemy, but Professor Karlovic is taking me on as a lab assistant so I don’t have to report until after supper,” said Will.

  Dulaney’s brows lifted in surprise, then he waved a hand toward a leather-bound chair. “Have a seat.” Moving around the massive wooden desk that dominated the room, he sat down and faced Will. “So, you impressed Aaron with your knowledge of alchemy, then?”

  “I guess so, sir.”

  “You told me before that your mother was a midwife skilled in the use of herbs, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And she was the one that taught you alchemy? Did you have any other teachers?”

  Will wasn’t sure what to say, but given that the king already knew most of his secrets, he didn’t think it would do him much good to lie. The professor might send a request for information to the Crown. “My grandfather was an unlicensed wizard,” Will admitted. “After my accident with the diviner’s sage he taught me a little before the war started.”

  Professor Dulaney frowned. “Where is he now?”